You never stop missing your parents

You never stop missing your parents

It’s another March 1st and it’s another of my mother’s birthdays. It’s the fourteenth one of these that she’s missed. Damn cigarettes. Damn cancer.

To call my mother a character would be understating things. I have so many stories about her that I can write these things for months.

My mother didn’t start to drive until after my father died in 1982. I guess she decided that she needed to find a way to get around now that her chauffeur was gone. She tried to drive when she was younger but she hit a tree. According to her the tree moved…into the middle of the street. When I learned that she was driving I knew that something needed to be done. I moved to California. Damn if she didn’t follow.

One year my mother decided to have a Passover Seder at her Palm Desert home. Sure mom, I’ll come down and bring the kids. This isn’t just any small family Seder. Mommy has brought in a Rabbi to lead it. OYYYY! Four hours! FOUR!!!! Oh yeah, the girls are two and one years old.

Then there was the time I went to visit her for a weekend in 2000. I showed up a little early and she said she was happy I was there because we had dinner reservations at 4:30. I said I would pay for dinner and give her a $100 if we could eat at a normal hour. She told me to shut up and get ready to go.

I could go on and on and on but I need to save things for other birthdays. As quirky as my Mother was, she did a lot of these things out of love for her family and her friends. She also did volunteer work in her community and helped a lot of needy people.

In my age group, I know a lot of people who have recently lost a parent. I always see the question of when will it get better? When will it be less painful? I know it’s different for everyone but the hurt and the pain is always there.  Sure it lessens with time and that’s why I can tell stories like these but the grief is somewhere in the background. You never know what will bring it forward. You never know when it will happen. Usually it’s anniversaries like these. Sometimes it’s looking at your children and realizing they didn’t get to have a relationship with their grandmother. Occasionally it’s for no reason at all and you just try to deal with it until it goes away.

So Happy Birthday, Mom. We will always love you and miss you. See you on the other side. Do they have early bird dinners there? And I’ll drive.

 

This is the piece I wrote three years ago today. Happy Birthday, Mom.

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Tags: Birthdays, Mom

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    Howard Moore

    Every five years or so I decide to update this section. I can't believe I've been doing this for close to ten years. The last time I did this I was close to sixty years old. Now I'm just a few months away from the big 7-ZERO. Scary AF!!! I'm pretty sure I won't be doing an update when I hit 80, but you never know. But until then, lets just be grateful.

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